Bloody Ballgowns
by JoyI9199
Summary: When a plot from the Founder's age is revealed, Bailey Ravenclaw reappears in the pureblooded political scene, throwing it into an uproar. When she is sorted into Slytherin, rather than her own house, questions begin to swirl. A voice in her head begins to try and turn her towards the Dark Lord's followers. Political Fiction with minor Dumbledore bashing. Generally following canon.


Chapter 1- Arrival and Discovery

_A man was running, sprinting through the streets of Los Angeles. The sun was setting, casting a long shadow as he ran. Behind him, three people were chasing him, matching his pace step for step, slowly gaining due to the large case the man was carrying as he ran. He turned down a dark alley, sprinting as fast as he could when suddenly a small figure dashed out from behind a dumpster. Even as he tried to change direction at a full sprint, the little girl had grabbed him around the waist, and with a familiar sensation of being squashed through a tube, they appeared in a hedged courtyard. A wooden swing in the center, with roses climbing over the posts, it appeared to be a classy courtyard, similar to what one might find behind the massive gates of the filthy rich. Before he had a chance to look around, he was pulled to the side by the girl that had just saved him._

_" Hurry up, we can't be seen," The girl said, beckoning him into a small tunnel into the hedge._

_ She was no more than eleven, dark blue hair falling to her waist, so dark it looked like black if it hadn't been for his expert eyes, trained to notice subtle nuances such as this._

_"Where are we? Who can't we be seen by?" He asked, even as the girl grabbed him by the hand and dragged him quickly into the tunnel._

_"Wait," was the girls only response. She led him through the hedge tunnel, reaching a staircase that led straight down. The leaves above him cast eerie green shadows that seemed to slither back and forth in the light breeze._

_"How did you apparate? You can't be old enough to have learned legally?"_

_ He was in the mood to gain answers, and he had decided since he had no other options but to follow the girl, he would ask until he gained them. It wasn't smart to follow the girl, but she had just saved him, and he supposed that whatever she had planned would at least delay his punishment, if at all. A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that it was dangerous, that he should go back and deal with the government, as they at leas would be held accountable for their actions, but his urge for adventure combatted this, and he continued behind the girl further down the staircase._

_The walls were of a rough stone, lit by floating slightly blue-tinted orbs above them. The stairs were steep, and as he went down, he tried to avoid thinking of the amount of stone above them. Small spaces had never been his thing, much preferring the open fields he was used to. They went down the stairs, finally ending at a set of dark double doors. The girl opened them to reveal a massive room, a library. The shelves reached up nearly to the top of the high ceiling, and the room was brightly lit with more of those floating orbs. The floor was covered in a thick deep blue carpet. _

_The walls were hung with tapestries, depicting various forest and mountain scenes. As he was led around the edge of the room, he focused on the tapestries. Each one depicted an independent scene, one of a flowing river, one of the ocean, the waves crashing on the beach silently. The man was impressed. Tapestry magic was one of the hardest types of magic, as it involved control over each individual thread. It was why many opted for paintings, over tapestries._

_He was led to an armchair, a small table next to it, in the corner of the room. The room was huge, he realized, as they had walked quite a distance before reaching this corner. The girl indicated for him to sit down, and he did so, keeping his case close to his feet. She reached backwards, her eyes never leaving the man, and a similar armchair slid over from an unseen point in the shelves. The man wondered to himself whether it was a wand less summoning charm, or if it was the chairs themselves that were enchanted._

_"Ask your questions," The girl said, crossing her arms across her chest. She was dressed in muggle jeans and a dark grey T-shirt._

_"Who are you?" He figured it was better to start simple._

_"Who are you?" The girl asked in return._

_"You're the one that saved me, shouldn't I find out first?"_

_"Well I need to be sure I saved the right guy," The girl scoffed._

_"My name is Charlie Weasley, dealer of illegal magical creatures, dragon specialist." He conceded to her, too desperate for answers to argue._

_"So I did save the right dude." She remarked casually._

_"Now who are you? Where are we? Why did you save me?" Charlie asked the questions rapidly, not giving her a chance to respond._

_"One at a time. I'm Bailey Ravenclaw, I'm sure you might know me better as the Ramsey heiress, tragic daughter that disappeared as her father gambled away the family fortune after the untimely death of her mother. You are in the only safe portion of the Ramsey Estate, the library, only accessible by those in the direct Maternal line of Ravenclaw. I saved you because I think you can help me, and you will, as I just saved you." _

_Charlie paused to process the information. Of course he knew the story of the Ramseys, one of the oldest Wizarding families in the Americas, and their fall from power after the death of the late Lady Ramsey, but he had trouble connecting it to the remainder of her statements._

_"Ravenclaw?"_

_"Yes. The line transferred to the Americas centuries ago, changed our name, and hid."_

_"How has this information never came to light?"_

_"It was hidden from us, I only recently discovered my true lineage when I discovered this library,"_

_"What's up with the library?"_

_"It is hidden by the Family Magics, traveling with wherever the Ravenclaws are, and only accessible by those in the Maternal line."_

_Satisfied by the story for now, Charlie decided to satisfy his other questions before getting distracted, even if it was for something as monumental as this._

_"So why was it so important we hide as soon as we arrive if we're on the Ramsey Estates?"_

_"Because my father is somewhere, likely drunk off his ass, looking for something to hit."_

_Charlie gaped. The prior information had been revolutionary, but he was much more focussed on the information he had just gained._

_"He beats you?"_

_"He beats anything that moves, and spends all his time either drunk or so high he can't function. Or gambling. That's how I discovered my heritage and this library."_

_Charlie was shocked at the casualness the girl had towards such an issue._

_"How long has this been going on?"_

_"I discovered the library when I was five. Since then, I practically live here. I spend the rest of my time hanging around Silverstone street. That's how I heard about you."_

_"Silverstone street isn't a nice place to hang around," Charlie was genuinely concerned for the young girl. Silverstone street was roughly the Wizarding LA equivalent of Knockturn alley, but much worse. _

_"It's a place where I can pickpocket without anyone noticing. I also hang around some parts of No-Maj LA, but it's harder to hide there."_

_"But- how do you survive like this?"_

_Baileys face hardened, obviously displeased with the direction the questioning had turned. "That's enough questions for now, will you help me?"_

_Charlie said yes before he had thought about it, so moved by the young girl's troubles to think about how much he was risking by agreeing to help her. He had no idea what the girl wanted. The voice inside his head cursed him, but he ignored it, telling himself it was obvious the girl needed help. _

_"Excellent, now may I have you sign a Magical Contract to not reveal anything spoken of in this library to anyone?"_

_"A Magical Contract?" Charlie faltered, this was a huge request, as it involved a form of binding the signer's magic to the terms of the contract. _

_"We can work out the details another time, just in general. When I get to Britain, I plan to join the political scene, and I have to be careful with how I work the situation. The return of a Sacred house is no trivial matter."_

_"When you get to Britain?"_

_"Yes, I need your help in getting to Britain, and your help in learning to present myself in pure-blood society."_

_"I'm- I'm not sure that I'm the best candidate for that," Charlie admitted. The Weasley's were one of the biggest blood-traitor families, and despite heading to 'Romania' to avoid associating with the name too much, he still wasn't well versed in the details of the matter._

_"You can get illegal animals all over the world, you have the connections necessary to get me to Britain. I need information on the political situations, as this library, while self updating, is roughly 10-15 years behind politically."_

_"Why politics?" Charlie asked before he could stop himself. He had spent years avoiding politics, despite knowing that as the second son, he could claim the Prewett house as his own, a house more Ancient than even the Weasley's, and a way to escape the blood-traitor title, with some work. Politics was never his calling, preferring instead to work with magical creatures, particularly dragons, though he dealt with many other dangerous animals. His primary job was moving them internationally, and selling them. _

_"Simple. Power and Prestige." The girls response was far too casual for Charlie's liking, and despite knowing she was a Ravenclaw, he had a fleeting idea that she was a Slytherin. That was the image presented by her statement at least. He scolded himself in his head again, for falling into such shallow stereotypes, such as those he hated when people judged him for his family. _

_Charlie thought for a second, thinking of the girl's circumstances, the uproar her appearance would inspire back in Britain, and her obviously highly advanced magic, remembering the way she had apperated the two of them midair. Her advanced claim on magic was likely due to living in a magical, self-updating library he supposed. The library was no doubt full of every type of magic ever discovered, as, if what she said was true, which he suspected it was, the library of a Ravenclaw, would be._

_"Where do we begin?" He asked with a sinister smile. It was time to send the entirety of wizarding Europe into chaos, and he decided he would be proud of helping cause this total political takeover she was planning._

7 months later

Bailey strode into the bank with a sense of purpose. She had changed into the only set of robes she could afford with the rest of her savings, bought from a second-hand shop, though judging by the threadbare quality they had it had passed through at least three different people's homes. They were black, with a fraying hem, and threadbare patches where they had been magically repaired many times. She made up for the robes with her attitude though. She held her head high, all too aware of the lack of money in her pocket as she passed by richly dressed witches and wizards, all too focused on their money to notice her lack of. She approached the first goblin behind a counter not actively weighing large piles of gold or gems.

"I'd like to make a claim to a lost house," she stated firmly.

It wouldn't be as easy as she hoped though, as the goblin stared down his hooked nose with a distinct look of disgust on his face. The look she was so used to seeing, that ignited a cold fury in her heart. It said clearly, 'You're just a poor little girl.'

She kept her face blank however, using the tactics Charlie had taught her while he stayed at the library with her in between shipping runs. He was a surprisingly powerful wizard, much higher than would be expected, what with how his family presented itself. She had made the right decision in recruiting him she felt, it had been quite simple to swoop in and 'save him' from the oh-so anonymous tip to MACUSA agents. Hanging around Silverstone Street, near invisible and always ignored in the back corners of bars, she could hear a lot of secrets.

"Do you have any proof of your lineage?" The goblin sneered.

"I do," Bailey responded.

"May I see it?"

"I'd much prefer speaking to a representative of the bank,"

She would not give him the satisfaction of making a scene, despite his very obvious disrespect. He assumed that she hadn't researched how to make a claim to a house, and he was very wrong. With Charlies help, and the help of her library, she had researched nearly everything having to do with Wizarding politics and pureblood customs. Weeks of etiquette training, learning to dance, learning everything a pureblood heiress should know, it had all been torture. Even the tests on pureblood culture and Wizarding laws, had been horrible, memorizing old laws, written in flowery language, and as to write laws like that, blocking off loopholes and phrasing things to allow certain things to be done, it had been mind-numbing. Charlie had taken to joking about how despite being a Ravenclaw, she hated to study.

"Am I not a representative in your eyes?" The goblin said snidely.

"You are not displaying the proper credentials, as all representatives are required to do,"

She had checked, very carefully to make sure he wasn't wearing the badge of a house representative. The house representatives were under strict magical oaths to keep family secrets and such, as the ancient treaty from the founders time had instructed when the goblins were assigned to protect the wizards gold, and to involve themselves as a neutral party in Wizarding politics. They controlled ancestry, and house mapping, along with working closely in business ventures and estate workings.

"Is that so," He glared at her. He turned around, blatantly ignoring her, attempting to tell her that the conversation was over. As he picked up a glittering tiara from a pile of riches on the counter behind, and an eyepiece, Bailey interjected loudly.

"I do not appreciate being treated as such, and I am not above speaking to your superiors," The tone of her voice, combined with the threat was enough to encourage the goblin to change his mind and decide to fetch someone qualified to help her.

He glared at her as he spoke venomously.

"Wait on those benches please," gesturing at a set of marble benches at the far end of the hall.

"I think I am comfortable waiting here for an official to escort me to a claiming office thank you."

The goblin muttered something likely very rude under his breath, but her threat to fetch his superiors had done its work and he shuffled off.

Bailey took the time to look around the bank properly. The marble building was much larger on the inside than it appeared from the outside, likely due to some relaxed laws encouraged by the large amount of money stored under her feet. The Ministry was notorious for being easily bribed, and it seemed that being bribed by goblins was no exception. Both sides of the hall were inhabited by long counters, and goblins were busy behind them, talking to various customers, weighing stacks of gold or precious gems, and examining various pieces of jewelry or other expensive looking things through eyepieces. Along the back wall were 3 sets of iron lifts, every few seconds clanking their way up to receive goblins and the occasional accompanying witch or wizard visiting their vaults. Next to the lifts were the marble benches the goblin had directed her to, sitting in front of a large wooden door, with a golden plaque on it. Bailey couldn't make out the words from such a distance but she suspected it led to the house offices.

Every Wizarding family had an office, and a goblin assigned to help deal with their finances and properties. The larger and older the house, the larger the amount of gold and political stocks owned, and the higher the level of goblin assigned. It was rumored that the ancient and most noble houses, such as those on the sacred 28 of pureblood families, and a few lucky others that despite not being on the list had gained a good reputation for their blood status, along with large amounts of money, had goblins whose only jobs were to manage their finances. This rumor would never be proved; any family with enough money to have this be true would, of course, be secretive enough that the general public would never find out, but Bailey suspected its truth. If her plan worked properly however, she would soon find out. She suspected that if the other part of her plan worked, and she convinced Charlie to take control of the Prewett house, he too would find out. The Sacred 28, the supposedly pureblood families, were known as Most Ancient and Noble Houses, with some of the even older houses known as Most Sacred and Ancient of Noble Houses. It was slightly ironic that not all of the sacred 28 were considered Sacred houses, but it had been named years ago, and nobody had bothered to change it. At the time, there were six claimed Sacred houses. The Ravenclaw house would be the 7th. The significance of being the seventh Sacred house was not lost on Bailey, who had been pleased to find this out. There were close to 50 active Ancient and Noble houses, and nearly 70 Noble houses, all of which worked together or against each other politically.

Houses were ranked based on their age, with wealth and blood-purity contributing to the further rankings. It was a complex process to understand the levels of the houses, and even deeper to understand who should be subservient to who, such as how an heir was below a heiress, unless the heiress in question belonged to a Maternal line, Houses where family magics and control of the house fell along the females of the line rather than the males. Then it became even more complicated, Ancient rules dictating how the lineages within a house would fall. Some houses relied on how the genetic magics fell to dictate the hierarchy within the family. Many houses hid these genetic powers, considering them part of the Family Magics, and as such, family secrets. From her extensive research, Bailey had found only 2 instances of when those powers were made public, and both so well hidden, they could not be public knowledge. The mess of pureblood families made it even harder to pinpoint the exact lines powers manifested into, but she had discovered the Rosier family produced the greatest number of metamorphmagi, and the Gaunts had the ability to speak parseltongue. Bailey herself was a metamorphmagus, a gift from the maternal aspect of her line, so she figured that the powers were not unique to the hoses, merely heavily separated.

Charlie had hated learning the ways each person was subservient to the others, as the complex ancient rules were circular and confusing, but she had insisted. Treating someone who was above you as below you could have many serious effects on one's family, and it was possibly one of the hardest things in pureblood culture to understand. Many of the more political families had their children learning all of this from birth, but her and Charlie had slaved for months to learn all of it in a matter of months.

She was startled out of her musings by the return of the first goblin, now accompanied by another goblin, this one in a set of green robes, a stark contrast to the black of the first goblin. More importantly, this goblin was proudly displaying a badge of a blank crest on his chest, the symbol of a certified house goblin.

"I can escort you to a claiming office madam,"

"Thank you, sir, it is much appreciated," she responded sweetly, ignoring the daggers the other goblin was glaring at her.

Bailey followed the goblin to the door in the rear of the hall, confirming her earlier idea of what the door was for as she read the plaque.

House Affairs

Diagon alley Branch

The door opened to reveal a long hallway, lined with doors on either side. Each door had a bronze plaque on it, emblazoned with a name, but before she had a chance to examine them, she was led into one of the first rooms, a room with no label on the door. The room was sparsely decorated, with white walls and a dark green carpet. The only furniture was a large desk in the center of the room, with identical chairs on either side and a wooden cabinet behind the desk. She sat opposite the goblin, shifting her chair slightly so she could still see the door behind her.

"Now you claim to have a connection to an existing house?" The goblin began stiffly, obviously eager to get the meeting over with.

"No sir, I am here to claim a lost house," The goblin seemed surprised for a second to hear such an unusual request.

"Are you aware that should your lineage not be sufficient you are required to pay a fee to the bank for the attempt to restore a lost house?"

"I am aware, and I am prepared for such, if necessary," she lied. She hadn't known that but was unsurprised to find out. It was lucky she was confident in her family though, as she had spent her last sickle on the set of robes she was currently wearing. Charlie had money, but she had refused to take any of it, preferring to take what was left of the Ramsey family fortune back in America and leave her father bankrupt there.

"Well let us begin then, what house are you seeking to claim?"

"The Most Sacred and Ancient of Noble Houses Ravenclaw,"

It was a testament to the goblins level of professionalism that he did no more than flinch. His entire face blanched, however. Bailey was no fool, and she had felt the wards on the room. They ensured that she was entirely serious about her request, and was not merely attempting to play a practical joke on the bank in some decidedly untasteful way. The wards functioned similarly to a modified form of veritaserum she had decided. They held no threat, however, as the wards also prohibited family secrets from leaving, and there was no doubt the goblin was also under several vows of secrecy, as per regulation.

"The House of Ravenclaw?" His voice shook slightly as he attempted to process her words.

"Yes sir, and I am prepared with detailed family lineage maps,"

"I-I…" The goblin was left speechless. The claiming of lost houses was unusual, but not rare, but usually restricted to Noble houses. A lost Ancient and Noble House being claimed was enough to set the political science into an uproar. A Sacred House being claimed was unheard of. From Baileys research, the last time a Sacred house was majorly affected was the ending of the Gaunt line. As they were not a politically active house however, it had been mostly ignored by the public.

"I am also willing to submit to a blood test as sufficient proof to the bank." Her continued professionalism seemed to snap the goblin out of his shock.

"Right, that will be necessary in this case I believe,"

"Here are the lineage maps," She reached into her robes and produced a roll of slightly crumpled parchment. The goblins hands were shaking as she passed them over, and he shuddered slightly as he felt the heavily charmed parchment that helped prove its validity.

"The bank will provide you with additional copies and take the originals for our records if that is okay," He said, falling into a heavily practiced speech.

"Perfectly so,"

"Now for the blood test, I suppose,"

"I assume this room has the necessary protections to ensure that it is protected?" She knew it did, but it was smart to make sure. Blood magic was a nasty thing when used against someone.

"Yes ma'am, it does,"

"Let us proceed then,"

The goblin turned around and with a single long finger unlocked the cabinet. He placed a stone bowl upon the desk, every inch of the bowl, inside and out covered in complicated chained runes. The goblin clicked his fingers and a plain silver dagger appeared beside it.

"Is the dagger necessary?" Bailey had to trust the bank with the blood to claim her ancestry but would attempt to keep as many variables safe as possible. Getting someone's blood could be used for many many things, and she didn't want any of them to be used on her.

"A personal knife may be used if so wished,"

Bailey pulled a basic dagger from her robes, and with a grimace sliced across her palm, allowing the blood to flow freely into the bowl. The goblin stopped her when he deemed it a necessary amount, and traced over the still bleeding cut with one finger, sealing the cut behind it. Not fully healed by any means, it was still a polite gesture, a sign of respect she realized.

"Thank you," she said, wiping the blade on the inside of her robes and stashing it again.

The goblin was no longer paying attention to her, however, focusing on the bowl. The runes visible were glowing, the light coming together above the bowl to form a ghostly image. As it glowed stronger, the blood turned black, and the image cleared to reveal, floating above the now dark bowl, the Ravenclaw crest. Bailey merely looked on, pleased, while the goblin sank heavily onto the chair. He was pale and his hands shook.

"Its- it's true… he finally focused on Bailey's face. You're the Ravenclaw heiress. How is such a thing possible?"

"I can give an official recollection of my family's unknown history later on to the Gringotts record keeper," she responded. She decided to overlook the unprofessional actions of the goblin. He was nearing shock, and she felt sorry for the creature.

The Ravenclaw crest had been fading as they spoke, and now it had completely faded away, the goblin seemed to recover his senses.

"Of course, we will need official statements and you need to discuss the political situation of your house, as well as deal with the long unchecked Ravenclaw fortune, properties, and business ventures."

"Of course, and I am prepared for all of this today."

"I can bring you to your offices now, and we will assign a goblin to assist you immediately."

He rounded the desk, banishing the bowl with a wave of his hand. He led her down the hallway, past all the doors. They reached the end of the hallway in silence, where a golden lift sat in place of a back wall. They entered and the loft automatically began going down. It passed floor after floor, each opening throwing a beam of light into the lift before it abruptly passed and another came up. Bailey found herself counting as they went, 1, 2, 3… they stopped finally at the 7th floor. She was led down the hallway again. Similar to the hallway they had just left, it was long and lined with doors on either side. The plaques on these doors were golden, however, and lined with a layer of dust.

"In the future, you will be able to go directly to the Ravenclaw offices, once you have been keyed to the wards," her companion explained, "the offices are organized by age, and many down this far have been lost.

Lost houses are very rarely claimed. The only other houses on this level belong to the oldest of the sacred 28, but the Ravenclaw offices are past even those."

They reached a door near the end of the hallway as he spoke. The plaque on the door appeared to be solid gold, and in elegant script, claimed:

The Most Sacred and Ancient of Noble Houses

Ravenclaw

Bailey entered the room alone, the goblin going to fetch the other goblins necessary to complete the process of instating her as a house head. It was noticeably much nicer than the claiming office that she had just left. The floor was carpeted in a thick rich royal blue, and the walls were a pale blue. There was a desk in the center of the room, just like the other room, but this desk was a thick mahogany one, the Ravenclaw crest embossed just slightly into the wood. The back wall, behind the desk, had a large cabinet in the center, a vase of dead roses on top of it. On either side of this cabinet were bookshelves, filled with ancient looking books. Both the cabinet and the shelves were of the same dark mahogany as the desk. As Bailey rounded the desk to sit in the ornate chair behind it, her attention was drawn to the portrait hanging above the door. It was of a young girl, beautiful, but crying silently as she looked at Bailey. Bailey recognized her instantly, however, and her voice echoing in the silent room called out to her.

"Helena,"

"It- it worked then," The portraits voice broke as she asked the question that had been nagging at her mind for centuries.

"It did. It worked perfectly," replied Bailey, smiling at the figure.

"And we're still pure?"

"We are,"

"Thank you," still crying, she left the portrait, likely to go tell of her success.

Bailey was spared from lack of something to. Just as the portrait left, the door opened, revealing two goblins. Both wearing purple robes, they gaped at her as they sat in front of the desk, another chair having automatically popped into existence. Both seemed still surprised to see her.

"I am Korag, the head of the Gringotts Ancestral Records and History division," the one on the left introduced himself.

"And I am Bargit, assigned Goblin of the Ravenclaw house," The one on the right introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you both,"

"We need you to make an official statement, telling of the history of your house, for the public records," said Korag, positioning himself with a quill and a piece of parchment.

"I will tell all, under the condition that this is held from the press until the end of summer galas," Bailey leaned back in her chair.

"That is an acceptable request, that is granted under our ability to withhold information such as this for up to 6 months," said Korag, making a note on the parchment.

"If I may, does this request further a desire for you to be willing to place the Ravenclaw house back into politics?" Interjected Bargit, with a ferocious gleam in his eye.

"It does, yes," replied Bailey, already deciding she was happy with the goblin assigned to her. A politically minded goblin could help her greatly.

"Excellent, please, continue as you were," said Bargit, satisfied.

"From the beginning then?" Asked Bailey.

"Yes please," said Korag.

Bailey launched into the story that she had found in the library. She had it memorized since first setting foot into the magnificent magical library, recognizing it as her ancestry, she had read it from the book of Ravenclaw, one of the most sacred of the Ravenclaw books. It was the first of the books of Family Magics, and the only book another was allowed to read. Family works were generally heavily protected, being the very identity of a house.

"It is traditionally said that Helena Ravenclaw stole her mother's diadem and fled to avoid discovery. That much is true, as is that a man, the bloody baron, desperately in love with her was sent after her, as per her mother's request to see her daughter once more before her death. Upon Helena's refusal to return home, she was stabbed in a rage. When the bloody baron realized he had just killed the woman he loved he killed himself and they wander the halls of Hogwarts together. But the missing part of the story is that once she had run away, Helena met a man. Mere days before the bloody baron visited her, she had given birth to a daughter. She had news of the baron coming to bring her back to her mother, and she hid the diadem and sent her newborn daughter and her lover away. They fled across the sea to the Americas, and the Ravenclaw name has been passed down matriarchally for centuries. Helped in part due to the greater division between no-majs — muggles— and the magical, the Ravenclaw line has stayed pure blooded. The lineage has been traced all the way down, following the name Ramsey, passed through the women in the family still. Upon discovering my heritage, I have returned to claim my house, and to return to the political world here in Europe."

Korag looked up as she finished the story. He had written every word down as she spoke, and appeared satisfied.

"That does seem plausible, following the legend, but why have you returned to Europe now? You are 12 correct? Is that not too young to travel so far?" asked Korag.

"I will tell, under the condition that this does not fall into the public portion of the records, and this is not told to the press,"

Korag nodded his promise, his quill down to signify the privacy of the next statement. Bargit leaned forwards to listen, shifting in his chair.

"I returned now because my mother died when I was two. My father, recognizing he had access to the full fortune accumulated over the centuries, spent his time gambling away the family fortune. With no better option, I used the last of the family money to travel here, knowing that there is a massive fortune here, I have arrived now, in May, to have the time to fix up everything here, from finances to estates, and prepare for my official insertion into pureblood society and the general political scene."

"Well, I think my business is done here," said Korag, being the first to process her stories, " the lineage maps you provided us will be copied, the originals placed in our records once they have been proven, which, despite putting them as top priority, may take up to two weeks due to the international affairs, and your copies shall appear in your filing cabinet," he nodded at the cabinet behind her.

"The timing should not be an issue as you wish to release your presence at the traditional end of summer gala correct?"

"Yes," replied Bailey, "I plan to introduce myself to pureblood society by hosting the first of the galas."

"I'm sure we could work something out," said Bargit, "we must be gentle with how we work with the political scene however. I'm sure you have some ideas?" He asked.

"Yes I have a few," replied Bailey.

As they spoke, Korag excused himself; the door closing behind him with a soft snap his only goodbye.

"I do have some things I must prepare today, would it be at all be possible to work of the Estates and Politics of the situation tomorrow?" She asked.

"Of course, the only thing we need to do now involves your Claim rings."

"Of course, I nearly forgot. How do I summon them?"

She cursed herself for forgetting such an important part of her plan. The House rings were one of the most important things for a house. Traditionally held only only by the Lord, Lady and the heir, it was a proof of heritage, but others may hold rings signifying their place in the House.

"Place your hand on the center of the crest here," he motioned at the center of the table, "and will the rings from your vault, it should recognize your magical signature."

Bailey followed his instructions, placing her palm on the crest, and imagining a pull from below. The crest glowed blue for a second, and then, in front of her hand rested two Sapphire rings on a blue velvet cushion.

"The crest has the ability to summon nearly anything from your vaults," Bargit explained.

Bailey nodded, only half listening as she examined the first ring. It was an ornate silver band, woven to look like a twisted rope, and a single small blue sapphire placed in the center. It was, truth be told, quite simple.

"You can will it to be the crest when you need to seal something officially or need to show your heritage," said Bargit, "they go on your left index finger. Since you currently hold both the position of Lady and Heiress, you should wear both, they will fuse and only show one."

Bailey slipped them onto the finger he had indicated as the goblin explained further. True to his word, they appeared only as one simple band.

"This ring is a legal symbol of your lineage and should be protected as such. The ability to use it as a crest seal is another reason it should be protected."

"Thank you, sir," replied Bailey, "Would it possible to withdraw some money from the vaults as well? I am in need of some money currently."

"Of course Lady Ravenclaw,"

Bailey repeated the earlier process of placing her hand onto the desk and produced a small leather pouch. Upon opening it, she discovered it was magically expanded on the inside, and contained an extraordinarily large amount of gold.

"I see the Ravenclaw business ventures have been going smoothly," she remarked as she stowed the pouch into her robes.

"Yes, the bank takes certain liberties at times to keep a house such as this at a respectable amount of riches."

"We shall go over those ventures tomorrow I suppose?" Asked Bailey.

"Yes, of course, will 10 o'clock be appropriate?"

"Perfectly so," responded Bailey.

"To enter your office, merely walk to the door in the hall and press your palm against it. It will recognize your rings magical signature and allow you to go directly to this office," informed Bargit.

"Thank you, sir, until tomorrow."

Bargit excused himself and left the office, leaving Bailey sitting alone behind the desk.

Back on the bustling street, Bailey debated what to do next. First, she supposed, would be to get some robes to match her title and place in this new world. She headed towards the first tailor she saw, a shop called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. She entered to find an empty shop, a lone broom sweeping the floor of its own accord behind a rack of robes.

"Good afternoon Ma'am." A woman had popped into place beside her, making her jump. A shock of platinum blonde hair fell to her waist, contrasting sharply with the fitted magenta robes she wore.

"Afternoon," replied Bailey, quickly recovering from her shock.

"How can I help you today?" Asked the woman, looking her up and down with a look of barely hidden disgust. As much as Bailey hated that look, the one she was all too familiar with, that screamed, 'You're too poor for me' she couldn't blame the woman. The robes she was currently wearing had been poor quality before they had been passed through many different families, and that exposure hadn't helped.

"A full summer wardrobe of your highest quality please,"

"A full wardrobe?" The woman faltered for a moment, it was obviously a highly unusual request.

"Yes, I'd like at least one set of sleeping robes, and two for casual wear ready in two hours, I'll pay extra for those. The rest I expect in no less than three days."

The woman gaped at her, her mouth falling open. Quite unprofessional Bailey thought to herself.

"Well, I don't have all day," she added snappishly. The woman was getting onto her nerves. Just because she looked like trash at the moment didn't mean she was willing to be treated like it.

"Ma'am, are you sure…" Her voice trailed off.

"I am quite sure, Thank you," said Bailey firmly, determined to not leave any room for argument.

"An order like this requires pre-payment, and an extra fee must be added for the rush speeds," the woman conceded.

"Of course, that is acceptable."

Bailey was led to a counter deeper into the store. Behind the counter lay shelves full of large rolls of fabric, of all kinds and colors. There were moving patterns and ever-changing colors, fabrics of all kinds and qualities.

"What would you like Ma'am?" The words drawing her attention from the fabrics, Bailey quickly launched into the list she had mentally prepared earlier.

"Let's see, I'll begin with 8 sets of casual robes, all summer weights, 7 of those form-fitting and one of a loose cut, 6 sets of sleeping robes, again summer weight, two sets of formal robes, standard House robes. 8 pairs of pants, three button downs, 7 pairs of socks, and 4 full sets of undergarments. All of your highest quality of course," Bailey listed off, the woman's self-inking quill jotting down her order behind the desk as she spoke, "I expect to leave with one set of the casual robes, and pick up one set of sleeping robes and another set of casual by this evening."

"I will have to upcharge 10 galleons per rush item,"

"Acceptable, as long as I can expect the full order done in a matter of three days?"

The woman's forced smile faltered for a split second, before she replied, "Of course,"

"How much is the total?"

Picking up the list, the quill now lying motionless on the counter, the woman ran her finger down the list, mouthing prices to herself as she did.

"Your total, including the rush fees, comes to…" An audible gulp was heard. "117 galleons, 4 sickles,"

Bailey kept her face emotionless, merely pulling out the leather pouch. She dumped a large pile of gold onto the table, and with deft fingers, began stacking the galleons into stacks of 5. A few seconds later, the last stack was created, 25 stacks covering the entire counter.

"Keep the change," said Bailey.

She could have done that much more simply, as the pouch presented her with the appropriate amount automatically, but she much preferred the drama she had created. The woman's face had been priceless. Her eyes seemed to bug out of her head, and she quickly swept the entire stack off the desk into the moneybox behind the counter.

"Follow me ma'am."

Her tone had changed Bailey noted, this woman could be swayed by gold.

She followed the woman through a door, where she was instructed to strip to her undergarments, leaving her gold pouch on the floor beside her shoes, the dagger safely stashed away in her desk back at Gringotts. Her arms raised as a tape measure wound its way around her, measuring every inch of her body. A quill floated beside her, marking her measurements on a notepad. The woman began summoning rolls of fabric as the dress stand in front of her began to match itself to Baileys slim figure. Bailey knew she was underweight, and tall for her age, but hated seeing the mannequin shape itself to her body.

"Now that is set," remarked the woman, "We can talk about your fabric and design preferences."

As she spoke, a large fuzzy robe floated over and slid onto Bailey's shoulders, the knot in front tightening itself into an intricate bow. She was gestured to sit in a large armchair that had drawn itself up, and a steaming mug of hot chocolate and a plate of biscuits appeared on a side table. Money had its perks, Bailey decided, as she sank onto the chair and took a biscuit.

The process of choosing fabrics was the quickest of them all, Bailey going directly for the simpler fabrics. Color, on the other hand, was much harder. Eventually settling on dark greys and blacks, with a dark green and a midnight blue as the only pops of color, Bailey left the woman tutting over how she preferred the dark and drab over the lime greens and brilliant purples she had originally shown her. She chose silver embroidery on the darker items, to show wealth and distinguishment.

The only issue arose when they came to selecting the colors for her formal robes. They had to be Ravenclaw colors, as they were necessary when playing politics, and as she would later be doing, attending wizengamot meetings, but she didn't trust the woman not to blab to the press. Doing so would bring her even more gold, as the news was sure to lap up the information that a Lady for a Sacred house had claimed her position. She eventually settled on forcing the woman into a magic secrecy contract, something that the witch protested heavily to until Bailey agreed to come back when it was time to purchase Hogwarts robes. The amount of gold she had dropped on this purchase, combined with the promise she would return to spend more gold was enough to sway the woman into signing. Once the contract had been signed- nothing fancy, just something saying she wouldn't reveal the identity of her customer- Bailey informed her of her title. If her treatment had been bettered when she had given the woman gold, it was nothing to her treatment after. She ended up leaving with her formal robes in a dark blue, silver lining the interior, and intricate embroidery planned for the exterior. Her crest gleamed on the chest.

She changed into a set of the casual robes, the only ones that had been finished when she left, with a request to send the rush items to the Leaky Cauldron under the name Bailey R. Ramsey, and to return in 3 days to pick upthe other items. The robes she had chosen was a set of dark grey robes, shimmering silver embroidered around the edges. They were a form-fitting set and fastened in the front with silver buttons over a lighter grey silk button down. Paired with a pair of black pants, Bailey looked every part to be worthy of her title. Her next stop was just across the street, to a store called Sir Sullivan's Shoes.

Grumbling about the ridiculousness of the alliterative names of the store, Bailey entered. A bell clanged loudly as she did so. A grey-haired man greeted her as she walked in.

"How can Sir help you today?" He asked, bowing slightly. And sounding like a house elf, Bailey thought to herself as she responded politely. Even just the expensive robes were enough to be treated differently she noted.

"I'd like to purchase several pairs of shoes, custom-fit please," replied Bailey.

"Of course, of course." The man led her through several high reaching shelves full of boxes, to a cushioned bench. He gestured for her to sit down and remove her shoes, a battered pair she had also picked up at the second-hand shop. He measured her foot with a tap of his wand.

"What would you like?"

"To begin, a pair of dragon-hide boots, the highest quality you have, knee-high."

With a muttered incantation, the man summoned a dusty box from the top of one of the nearby shelves. He revealed a pair of black boots, with a three-inch heel, He waited for Bailey's nod of approval before sliding it onto her leg, tapping the boot several times and muttering more charms as it fit her foot and leg. He repeated the process on the other side. Once both sides had been fitted to her feet he instructed Bailey to walk around and see what she thought. Once she had voiced her approval, he began to prepare a box, stopped by Bailey. "I'll wear these out. I'd also like two other pairs, however, an everyday shoe, black, and a strappy stiletto, heel no less than 5 inches. Also black."

The man nodded. "Of course, and would you like the other two now, or for pickup later?"

"Delivered to the Leaky Cauldron under the name Bailey R. Ramsey," replied Bailey, following the man back to the front of the shop.

"That will be 36 galleons for the boots, 46 sickles for the basic shoes, 10 galleons for the heels, and 13 sickles for the delivery,"

Bailey handed him the stacks of gold, the pouch presenting her with the correct amount as she reached into it.

As she walked out of the shop, Bailey caught a glimpse of herself in the window of a closed shop. With the expensive shoes and robes, she was beginning to look every part of her birthright. She scowled at her hair, however, long and dark, it had begun to tangle in the wind. Screwing up her face, Bailey formed it into perfect ringlets that fell just below the center of her back. Her metamorphmagus abilities were usually left unused, except to change her hair. She always enjoyed changing up her hair. Sill missing something she thought as she looked at her reflection. She concentrated again and turned the bottom half of her hair a brilliant blue. Her favorite color, it wasn't unusual to see her sporting blue hair, along with other unnatural colors. She stuck to dark colors though, preferring to stay out of the spotlight.

Satisfied with her reflection, Bailey considered her options. Only three more stops she decided. It was roughly noon when she had left the bank, but due to the time she had spent with her wardrobe, it seemed to be nearing roughly three. Bailey strode through the masses frequenting the alley, entering a shop near the entrance of the alley. Ollivander's was known widely to be one of the best wandmakers, certainly the best in Britain.

"Who do we have here?" The man's voice was wavery, telling of his age, despite his strong actions as he leaped from a ladder.

"Hello Mr. Ollivander."

"You're here to purchase a wand?"

"Yes, sir,"

"Well well well… firstly, who are you?" He leaned uncomfortably far over the counter, staring into Bailey's dark brown eyes with his brilliant blue ones.

"My name is Bailey Rose Ravenclaw, descendent of Rowena Ravenclaw." Bailey felt a certain rush of pride as she spoke. In America, their family had worked under the surname of Ramsey, and it was a freeing feeling to state her full name to the ancient wandmaker.

"A Ravenclaw. Curious." The man's face betrayed no shock at her statement, but his eyes gleamed excitedly.

"Let's see, how about… this one," He reached up swiftly to catch the box that flew at him from the back of the shop, a cloud of dust following it.

"Alder, and Pheonix, 10 ½ inches, slightly swishy"

Bailey took the wand, only to be shocked with what felt like an electric shock.

"No no no, definitely not," He summoned another wand wordlessly from the back of the shop.

"What about… Hawthorn, Dragon heartstring, 11 inches,"

He passed the wand across to Bailey, who accepted it much more cautiously. She gave it an experimental wave, where it promptly released a load of black smoke and made a loud farting noise.

"Not quite… This one, however…" He passed her another wand.

Bailey took it gingerly, but even as she touched it, it grew pleasantly warm under her fingers. She waved it gently, as Ollivander nodded in the background. As she waved, however, a second wand box flew over to the counter. Ollivander looked just as surprised as she was, and he made no show of hiding it.

"Interesting, that first wand is Beech and Unicorn hair, 9 ½ inches, unbending. But… in all my years, I have never seen this, only heard tales, but it appears you have been matched with two different wands. Go ahead now, try this one," He passed her the second wand excitedly, banishing the failed wands back to their shelves with a wave of his hand.

Bailey grasped the second wand, a show of golden light appearing.

"It is so! Thank you, Ms. Ravenclaw, you have given me an opportunity to see this miraculous feat with my own eyes." His voice dropped to a whisper, and Bailey had to strain to hear him. "I suggest you stick with the first wand, keep the second one hidden from prying eyes. And for the love of Merlin, do not register both wands. Keep one for your personal use."

His voice returned to a normal volume as he finished speaking. "The one you're holding is Elm. Dragon heartstring, 9 ½ inches, and very flexible. Keep it safe." He handed her both wands, she stashed the first one, the Beech one she had already privately dubbed 'the legal one' in her robes, and the second one, the Elm one, into her boot.

Ollivander looked on appreciatively at her acceptance of his advice,, and shooed her out of the store, despite her repeated objections to being sent away with not one but two wands for free.

She left the store finally, having lost the battle of paying, and decided she still had time for her last stop. Pushing through the crowds, Bailey slipped into a side street, hidden as a false aclove. A battered sign proudly proclaimed her location. Knockturn Alley. Bailey continued down the now nearly empty street, ignoring the leers she could feel, coming from figures hidden in the shadows. She stopped in front of a shabby shop, the sign above labeling it merely as 'Nelly's Items for All'. A bell tinkled as she stepped into the dark interior of the shop.

"How can I help you?" A voice as smooth as silver rang out, the originator gliding out from behind a desk. It belonged to a particularly short witch, dressed in silvery robes.

"I'm looking for a watch… a more… unique one than I think I could find elsewhere."

"For everyday use?"

"Something that has some protections in place I think."

"And do you have the funds sufficient for such a purchase?"

Shops here were no-nonsense. They didn't hide their desire for gold.

"I have more than enough. With exceptional service, I'm sure I could bear to part with some extra," Bailey replied in a not-so-subtle bribe.

"Of course of course, what all would you like on this timepiece?"

"Protection against blood Magiks, poisons, and compulsion or loyalty spells."

"That is a highly complex request,"

"And it is not my only one,' Bailey continued, "I've heard you have some interesting earrings for sale as well?"

"Hmm… you seem to have heard a great number of things,"

"I'm sure you know of a certain, Charlie Weasley? He saved your sister from a scrape back in Germany?"

"Of course, Of course,"

"I'd like both the watch and the earrings please,"

"Such a large order requires more than gold I'm afraid, what's in it for me?"

The woman truly did not try to hide her social climbing, and Bailey respected that. She could be a formidable force if she had more subtlety. She filed the information away for the moment and began to pace the interior of the tiny shop, debating if it was too early to show her hand.

"Let me see the products first," She said.

The woman turned around and with a muttered summoning charm, fetched two dusty velvet jewelry boxes. The first one opened to show a silver watch, with a small black face. To all appearances, it was a basic watch. With a leering grin, The woman flipped it over to reveal runes, barely visible in the dim light filtering through the window, scratched gently into the chain links of the band. Bailey held out her wrist- her right wrist, despite being right-handed- and allowed the witch to lock it around her exceptionally small wrist, where the watch shrunk to fit perfectly.

"Now do you deserve the other piece?"

Bailey passed the woman a stack of galleons, which was graciously accepted by the witch. The second box was handed to her, and she handed the woman an extra stack of galleons. The woman's eyes widened at the large amount of gold.

"Please, ma'am, come back if you ever need anything else, anything at all,"

Bailey smirked at the reaction.

"Of course, until next time." She swept from the shop.

Outside, the shadows were lengthening. She strode purposefully from Knockturn Alley. Waiting until she was back in the crowds of Diagon Alley, Bailey stepped to the side and pulled the box from her pocket. The earrings were tiny sapphires, but she knew they would function as expected. Pulling her Elm wand from her wand, she put them on with a tap of her wand. There was enough residual magic that her magic couldn't be traced, and if asked to present her wand she could always present the Beech wand. So far her plans were working perfectly. Checking her new watch, she noted it was time to meet Charlie for dinner.

They met in a booth in the back of the Leaky Cauldron. Charlie nodded appreciatively at her new robes and boots. Noting her earrings and watch, he commented, "I see you met my associate. How'd it go? Nelly wasn't too aggressive was she?"

"No, it went well. I got the items you recommended."

"How're they working?"

"Well I haven't had a chance to text them much, but the watch keeps great time," Bailey joked. Being around Charlie was her chance. to let her guard down, and she embraced every moment of it.

"You hungry?" Asked Charlie, changing the subject.

"Starving actually," replied Bailey, and made to head to the bar. She was pulled back by Charlie, and she found herself sitting next to him in the booth. His concerned eye pierced into hers intensely. She found herself admiring the orange flecks in his light brown eyes, so like both his red hair that he hated and the flames of the dragons he spent his time around. She was interrupted from her wandering thoughts of the irony of opposites by Charlie.

"When was the last time you ate? I know you haven't eaten since you arrived here this morning, you spent the last of your money on wizarding robes. You didn't eat the night before we left, and you couldn't have had a chance while you were on the boat."

"Two days," muttered Bailey, breaking eye contact and instead choosing to focus on the suspicious-looking stain on the fabric of the booth.

"You idiot," Charlie's words were rough, but his tone was one of care. They had known each other less than a year, but Charlie had taken the fierce young girl under his care.

"I'll eat now, I have the money for it now."Bailey shrugged his hand off her shoulder and slid out of the booth, still avoiding eye contact.

Charlie joined her at the bar, requesting the same as her, the 'stew of the day,' which he strongly suspected did not contain beef, as the sign read. Knowing the seedly reputation of the place, he suspected horse. They ate in pleasant silence, having seen each other that morning when Charlie had pulled some strings and gotten her onto a magical ship, one of his contacts, transporting a load of illegal plants, destined to one of the seedier apothecaries off Knockturn Alley. Once arriving, Bailey had apparated under a disillusionment charm into the heart of Diagon Alley, stopped at the second-hand robe shop to get some wizarding clothes, in favor of the muggle clothes she prefered back in america, and then headed directly to Gringotts.

The claiming of her house was the easy part they both knew. The hardest part was yet to come, the political maneuvering between pureblood families. Charlie had detested all of the political pleasantries required in school, preferring to be direct. Straight to the point and often blunt, he was never politically suited. Bailey on the other hand he had realized, was the exact opposite. She had a way she twisted her words, saying one thing and subtly implying another, convincing someone they agreed with her when in fact they thought the opposite; it was an art, and Charlie oved to watch her work her magic. She was manipulative and never entirely truthful, but she did it well. In short, she was perfectly suited to the pureblood politics. He would enjoy watching her work he decided. It would be interesting to see her set the current political scene upside down as she entered it, and even more interesting to see her reemerge from the wreckage she caused, this time on top. The families would scramble underneath her to reset and claim their part of the new power cycle. Avoiding politics was fun, but watching it was more fun. Somehow, he had an idea that as she had shown him he could manipulate people with her words, she wasnt being entirely truthful with him in her plans. Charlie prided himself of being flexible however, and had decided it would be worth whatever she had planned for him to watch it all unfold.

He was shaken from his reflections as he finished his stew by a question directed at him by Bailey.

"Sorry hun, I was a million miles away, what was that?"

Bailey sighed. "Don't call me hun, and I asked if you wanted to join me tomorrow while I go over everything that has gone on in the last several hundred years?"

Charlie was shocked into silence for a second. To ask him to help her was one thing, but to be asked to sit in on a meeting was a huge request. Mind going a million miles an hour, he chose his words carefully as he responded. "I would, but I have a meeting with a few big buyers down in Turkey. Sorry hun, but I don't think I can reschedule."

"Okay then,"

"Well," Said Charlie as he slid off the bar stool, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Same place and time?"

"Sure," replied Bailey as she embraced him.

"Night."

Charlie strode out of the bar before she could reply. Shaking her head, Bailey sighed. It was such a Charlie thing to do she found herself thinking as she ordered a second bowl of the stew. Definitely not beef she thought, as she took a bite of the steaming slop. The alliance had gone much further than she had expected all those months ago. She had dropped an anonymous tip to the MACUSA Agents after weeks of research on which smuggler to use to gain access to Britain, weeks of listening in shadowy corners of bars, using her metamorph abilities to look just different enough she wouldn't be noticed. She had followed them when they chased, Charlie being unable to apparate away due to the charm they had shot at him as they began the pursuit. She apparated juts in front of him as he turned down a dead-end alley, and side-alonged him to the courtyard that attached to the library. She hadn't intended to remain in contact with him, but he had grown on her. She told herself she kept him around for his contacts, and the possibilities of convincing him to reclaim the Prewett House, but she knew otherwise. Those were just perks, not reasons. She pushed the thoughts from her head as she scraped the bottom of her bowl.

"One room please, pay-per-night, as I'm not sure how long I'll need it," Bailey requested from the aged innkeeper.

"No can do missy, pre-pay only." he responded gruffly, polishing a glass with a rag so dirty it served only to make the glass dirtier.

"How much is standard per night?"

"1 galleon,"

"I'll pay double that the morning after,"

He eyed her with great suspicion, clearly debating whether the doubled price was worth it, before grunting, "Room 17," and passing her a large golden key. Bailey wordlessly slid an extra galleon across the counter and took the key.

"I believe there's two packages for me as well? Under a Bailey R. Ramsey?"

He passed two packages, both wrapped in brown paper across the counter.

"Thank you sir." Bailey handed the man a second galleon.

"Welcome ma'am," he grunted.

Bailey noted the difference in address as she followed a hallway leading past the bar. She climbed an oaken staircase, walking down the surprisingly well-kept hallway above the bar, and stopping in front of room 17. The room was furnished with solid wooden furniture, and a fire crackled merrily in the grate. Locking the door behind her, and noting the runes carved around the doorknob, that under a quick inspection appeared to be anti-theft and anti-unlocking charm wards, Bailey tossed both packages on a solid wooden desk and flopped herself on the bed. Staring at the ceiling for a second, she dragged herself up again. As tired as she was, she had to begin cultivating an appearance. Pulling out her elm wand, she stood in front of the mirror and cast cleaning and styling charms on her hair. She changed into the set of sleeping robes in the first package, and hung the set of robes she had worn that day and the second set of casual robes on a rod by the door for that purpose.

Tomorrow would be a new day she decided, and exhausted, she fell onto the bed and let a dreamless sleep overcome her.


End file.
